Frozen fingers no help on the Salmon River this time of year

John Berry/The Post-StandardChuck Pacer casts his fly Thursday on the Salmon River.

Sometimes as the outdoors editor guy you just have to walk the walk — even if it means nearly freezing your hands off.

Early Thursday morning I headed up to the Salmon River to wet the line on my new, 8-weight fly-fishing rod with Chuck Pacer. Pacer, a veteran fly fisherman from Baldwinsville, has been fishing the Salmon River for more than 40 years.

“It’s 22 degrees out — balmy,” said Pacer after I met him in the parking lot at Fat Nancy’s bait and tackle store, just off the I-81 exit in Pulaski. From there, we headed east toward Altmar.

When we arrived at the lower fly fishing zone I was surprised at the crowd. There were nearly two dozen anglers in the water or on the river’s banks.

I’ve never been much of a winter steelhead fisherman because my hands get cold easily. I’m amazed at all the guys up there who seem to go nearly all day with no gloves on. Some even stick their hands in the river’s frigid waters from time to time to wash their hands.

Anyway, Chuck, who was fishing without gloves, set me up with one of his hand-tied nymphs and put some split shot on my leader to get it down to the bottom. Later, I took a couple of weights off after I kept getting snagged.

Pacer attached a bobber-like, pink strike indicator to my line and I continued to roll cast my line in the water. The whole time, I had on a light pair of cotton gloves.

“There’s a lot of fish in this small stretch. Maybe as many as 200,” Pacer said of the catch-and-release area where we were fishing. “They call it the petting zoo.”

After three hours of fishing, my gloves were wet and I started losing feeling in a couple of my fingers.

Winter steelhead anglers are a hearty lot. They rank right up there in my mind with winter duck hunters.

I once asked a steelhead fisherman a couple of years ago how he could fish without gloves in 18 degree weather.

“I’d rather lose a few fingers than lose a fish,” he said and smiled.

Salmon River steelhead fishing can be on or off. Sometimes anglers will hook up with fish after fish. Other days, you’re lucky if you get even one on your line, Pacer said.

Wednesday morning was slow. I got skunked. Nevertheless, every one around me seemed to be getting at least an occasional hit — and several succeeded in landing good-sized fish.

I was envious. The guy next to me landed four beautifully colored steelhead, all averaging about four to six pounds. I had to halt my fishing several times as he walked by me in the water, battling his fish.

Dave “Rocky” Rockwell, a cigar-smoking fishing guide on the other side of the river, was guiding two servicemen from Fort Drum. Both had fish on while I was there.

Rockwell was keeping his bare hands warm by sticking them from time to time in a fur-lined pouch slung around his neck. The pouch had a couple of those chemical-filled, handwarming packets inside. It looked like something worth trying.

I headed out at 11 a.m. and drove back to Syracuse to finish my work for Friday’s Outdoors page.

Later that day, Pacer left a message on my answering machine that he had landed two steelhead on stonefly nymphs between 12:30 and 1:30 p.m.

“The day wasn’t a complete bust,” he said.

The outing was far from a bust. I’ll be back to the Salmon River — soon.
The sight and the fight those four nice steelies gave to the guy next to me is still with me. I want to be that guy.

I just have to learn how to deal with my frozen fingers.

John Berry/The Post-StandardDylan Horning, left, and Dylan House hold up the pair of steelhead they caught Thursday along the Salmon River near the village of Altmar. Notice they's not weaaring gloves.